In totally unrelated news

I had a stressful dream last night.

I mean, I have lots of stressful dreams; you know, the ones where you wake up and have to think really really hard about whether they were a dream or real and then go about your day mad at your husband because in your dream he did something bad and whether or not it was a dream you still need to be mad at him because he was responsible whether in your dream or not. Yeah, those dreams.

But last night I dreamed about work.

Which, again, is not that unusual. I do work. So it only makes since that I would dream about the thing that takes me away from my husband and kids and makes me feel like an utterly terrible, horrible mom since I am not home to cuddle and tickle and play and help. And then when I am home I am torn between the aforementioned items and laundry, dishes, cleaning and pretending that I didn't just work 48 hours in 4 days.

But that's neither here nor there.

SO this dream.

I don't really remember much about it except that I kept waking up in a panic and realizing that I was just dreaming and then the second that I would fall back asleep, I was right back where I left off in my dream and my heart rate would skyrocket and all I wanted to do was leave.

Seriously.

Not good.

Yesterday I also completed 8 loads of laundry. That's washing, drying, folding and putting away.

I know, I'm a super human.

It's ok.

You can say it.

Then, in my I'm home and therefore must get everything in order before I go back to work Wednesday night funk, I cleaned out Tucker's red toy bin. So.much.fun! AND I found a few missing toys parts.

To top it all off, I cooked.

Take a breath.

No really.

Take a breath.

I

cooked.

I thought the boys eyes were going to bug out of their heads.

And Stuart.

Well, Stuart did not know quite what to say other than, "can I have more please."

It was a good night.

Well, except for the whole panic-driven dream thing.